


Mountain Drift

by Fire_Drifter



Series: Road to Redline [1]
Category: Biker Mice From Mars, Initial D
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Gen, Healing, Past Character Death, Racing, Rescue, Reunions, Separation Anxiety, Separations, Street Racing, Touge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:08:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28077480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Drifter/pseuds/Fire_Drifter
Summary: After a miscalculation with the Tug Transformer on Earth,  the Biker Mice decide it's time to fix up their old ship and start to head back home. Suddenly, they are shot down, and the ship has broken apart into pieces upon re-entry of earth's atmosphere, scattering Vinnie, Throttle, and Modo across North America! Now Throttle has crash landed, and is injured badly on a barren, alpine mountain!At the same time a young man, Manuel Vernandez, is driving home from Bogus Basin, Idaho in his modified Civic CR-X. He has been delivering cooking supplies for his father at the mountain's ski resort, running a restaurant called "Shifters". Through a twist of fate, Manuel finds Throttle alongside the road on his way and brings him back to his home to help him recover and find the others. However, there is more to this delivery boy than there seems to be. Manuel is a mechanic at a tuning and repair shop called "Throttleworks, Inc." and a delivery boy for his father by day, but by night, he is a speed-hungry Touge street racer! Hurling down the mountain bend like a man with a death wish, setting record times for the Bogus Basin Course!... But that is the least of Manuel's secrets, as Throttle will soon find out!
Series: Road to Redline [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2056899
Kudos: 2





	1. Hanging by a Thread

Bogus Basin Rd.

Shaffer Butte, Idaho

August 8th, 2010

Throttle crawled on his hands and knees from the twisted metal wreck of part of what was once a Martian thunder pike star ship. His bros were nowhere in sight, and he was bleeding badly, his body battered, bruised, and lacerated from the crash landing. Pain seared across his leg like fire as he dragged himself away from the smoldering wreckage. He couldn't even find his bike, nor could he tell what shot him down. Throttle remembered what happened after they took off from Quigley Field. Right when they were exiting the atmosphere, they were shot at by something on the ground. The ship had taken several severe hits. First, the shields, then the engines, and before he knew it the ship broke up into three pieces on re-entry. He wasn't sure where he was exactly, but that didn't matter. He had bigger issues to worry about. His head felt like it was going to split in two, and the gash in his side flared up in fiery pain as he continued to crawl. The memory was still fresh, of him reaching out to try and grab Vinnie and Modo, as they tried to grab him. But they were out of reach of each other, and they plummeted to earth, landing in different places on a northern continent. Throttle had landed on a mountain. A barren, alpine mountain.

Throttle crawled up to a road. He dragged himself over the guardrail, then lay on the side of the road, on the verge of blacking out. Many thoughts plagued him: Were the others alright? Was he going to live, or die? Had Limburger had the last laugh after all?

He didn't notice the car approaching him until it pulled over...

#

Manuel Vernandez drove down Bogus Basin road, the headlights of his blue Honda CR-X cutting through the darkness of the trees as he started his twenty-mile trek back home, from his latest delivery for his father. He drove a bit slower tonight, which was rare, considering he liked to fly down the mountain as fast as he could. He could not explain it, but something inside was telling him to take it slow tonight. It felt like a sixth sense. A sense that told him something was going to happen tonight as he rounded a bend, the moonlight cutting through the trees.

As he finished going through the bend, He saw a body on the road! Manuel pulled over and turned his hazards on. He got out of the car and walked up. What came into his view shocked him! A human-sized, anthropomorphic mouse, in biker clothes, with antennas! It had tawny-colored fur and the biker attire it was wearing consisted of a black, studded vest, blue jeans, and black biker boots, along with metal knee pads and tinted specs of all things!

"What the hell?!" Manuel said, thinking it was some sort of costume as he walked forward. As he closed the distance, he saw it wasn't even close to a costume. The mouse's fur blew back and forth in the mountain breeze that cut through the treetops, as blood ran from a wound in the Mouse's side. This clearly was no joke. The mouse was hurt. Besides the obvious injuries, its right leg was limp and looked broken. But nothing could prepare Manuel for what happened next: The mouse spoke!

"Help... Help me..." The mouse said with a pained breath, before losing consciousness.

Manuel panicked. At first, he wasn't sure what to do as he froze on the spot. He looked around for a few seconds, hoping for some prankster or someone to jump out and scream "Psych!" but it didn't happen. Oh, god! Manuel thought as he looked at the battered Mouse-man. What do I do? Manuel then mentally kicked himself for delaying. This guy's hurt! I can't just stand here like an idiot while he bleeds out! He ran back to the car, his heart racing, looking for anything he could use to stop the bleeding. He carried an emergency kit in the car for winter in case the car got stuck in the snow or some other emergency. He got out the kit and found some tape bandages, antiseptic, liquid and string stitches, a needle, and other things. He got out, and administered first aid the best he could, sewing shut the major wounds, then he patched up the rest. Manuel wiped the blood off his hands with a rag after he had done all he could. His nerves were shot, but he tried to force himself to keep his cool. Which he was failing at. He looked around, and then called out, "Hello? Is anyone else here?!"

No answer but the mountain wind. Manuel looked down to the unconscious Mouse. What else could he do? He couldn't just leave it here. If he did, something told him he would regret it for the rest of his life and the mouse would die! But he couldn't go to the police, either. They'd think he was crazy. Which now didn't seem that far from the truth, after all, who would believe him anyway? But what if he turned out hostile or something? Or worse, what if it had some sort of disease?

"Okay, get a grip, man!" Manuel snapped to himself, grabbing the sides of his head to try and snap himself out of his panicked state. "Calm down, and breathe..."

Finally, mentally exhausted and sleep deprived, Manuel loaded the mouse into the passenger seat of his modified Honda and drove back to his apartment as fast as he could go. He had to take him home. He didn't know what else to do...

Later, back at Manuel's apartment...

Manuel heaved the unconscious mouse-man up the steps of his apartment building to his unit. He was starting to wish he had taken the first-floor option instead of opting for the third-floor apartment with the balcony.

"Damn me and my love for a good view," He muttered as he grunted and strained. The mouse-man was a bit taller than him by about five inches, but what made it so difficult getting him up the stairs was the weight from the muscle the mouse-man had: He could put any Hollywood heartthrob to shame. But Manuel wasn't worried about how sculpted the mouse was, as he dragged him up the steps, perspiring. Right now, he was more worried about losing his grip on the mouse-man due to his weight and having him fall down the stairs, causing him further injury! The weight was no doubt from his chiseled physique! He felt like he weighed twice what Manuel weighed! Manuel was no slouch in fitness, but his figure was more lean than bulky, weighing in at one hundred seventy-five pounds as he was more of a track participant in school. Manuel wondered how it was possible this mouse-man got so buff, as he dragged him up the final set of stairs.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of grunting and groaning and grinding his teeth in frustration, Manuel reached the top of the staircase. He checked his watch. It was just around one in the morning. He dragged the mouse-man down the hall to his unit: a door with the numbers three-zero-five. He unlocked the door. As Manuel dragged himself and the mouse-man in, he was greeted by his simple, yet slightly disorganized studio apartment: In the main room, there was a queen-size bed, along with a computer near the window, complete with desk, and all the accessories for testing car instruments strewn across it. There was also a land-line phone with answering machine on the desk. A big-screen TV parallel to the bed, along with a recliner in front of it completed the arraignment, with a nightstand and digital alarm clock.

Manuel shut and locked the door behind him, then looked at the bed, sighing. It looked so inviting right now, but he couldn't use it. The mouse-man would need somewhere to stay while he was recovering, so Manuel would have to camp out on the floor. He prepped the bed with towels, seeing he wouldn't want to get any blood on the sheets, alien or otherwise. He then sighed, and using all his remaining strength, heaved the mouse-man up, slinging his arm around his shoulder, and with much-strained effort, cursing included set the Mouse-man on the bed.

Manuel proceeded to check the injuries closer. He rolled up one of the mouse man's pant legs and inspected it more carefully. It only confirmed what he thought earlier. It was no doubt broken. Manuel went to the bathroom and got out his home medical kit, which was even more thorough than the one in the car. He also got out his old leg brace, from when he injured his leg in that cycling fiasco two years ago. Then he went and booted up his computer, and looked up various medical sights, looking up how he could treat the injuries the mouse-man had. He couldn't take it to a doctor for obvious reasons, thinking they might try and dissect the mouse. Or worse.

Several Hours passed. After many Google searches and stressed patching, Manuel finished. This was the best he could do. He looked over at the clock: It read two o-five.

Manuel couldn't stay awake anymore. He was so tired. He changed into his pajamas, unfolded his sleeping bag, got into it, and went into an uneasy sleep.

#

Throttle woke up, fighting his way back to consciousness. His body ached horribly, worse than after that accident at Red Rim Pass. He opened his eyes. He still had his specs on for some reason. He knew he wasn't dead. He hurt too much to be dead. He then noticed that his cuts had been bandaged, and the gash was sewn shut. His arm was in a sling, and his leg in a brace, the pant leg rolled up. Throttle looked at his surroundings. He was laying on a bed, in a small room, with a computer and a large TV on the opposite wall, far from the bed. In the middle of the room was a recliner, right in front of the TV. There was a sliding glass door near the computer, and the other end of the room looked like it led to a kitchen. He then saw a human: A young man in his twenties, sleeping on the floor in a sleeping bag. Judging by his posture, he was out like a light.

Throttle sat up and struggled to stand, straining himself. It hurt when he sat up, but he couldn't just lay here. He needed to find Modo and Vinnie. He slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed and slid off the mattress into a standing position. His legs immediately protested with screaming pain, one more than the other. It felt as if someone had dipped his entire leg in molten lava! He clenched his jaw, letting out a grimace, leaning on the bedpost for support.

The human woke up immediately on hearing Throttle's grimace, clearly a light sleeper. The young man turned, seeing him, then got out of the sleeping bag in record time, and was at Throttle's side, slinging his good arm over his shoulder.

"What do you think you are doing?!" The human exclaimed. "Take it easy, your leg is broken!"

"...Where am I?" Throttle asked weakly between pained breaths. "Where are my bros...?"

The human's face froze like ice into shock. "Wait... You can speak English?! Okay, okay, hold on, one thing at a time!" The human snapped, stopping Throttle from attempting to walk. "Right now, you need to recover! You nearly died at Bogus Basin. Lie down, take it easy!"

Throttle felt dizzy. He finally gave up on standing, and let the human boy help him lay down on the bed once more.

"...Thank you for helping me. Who are you?" Throttle asked the boy.

"My name's Manuel Vernandez." Manuel answered, half asleep. "What's yours?"

"...My name's Throttle. Throttle Thorneboy." Throttle replied.

"...Well, Throttle, I don't know what you are, other than you're, well... A giant mouse-man. But we'll talk more when the sun rises." He said with a yawn. "I need to get to sleep, or I won't be able to get up for work. Once you've recovered, I'll help you in any way I can."

With that, Manuel got back in his sleeping bag and fell asleep. Throttle leaned his head back and stared out the nearby window at the stars outside, eventually falling into slumber himself.


	2. Living Witness

_The Next Day..._

_6:00 AM..._

Manuel woke up when the alarm clock he placed on the floor went off. A light was starting to shine in through the apartment window. It was six o'clock, the crack of dawn. He lazily slammed his hand on the clock, shutting off the alarm with a groan. He knew straight from the start, that he was going to need some extra-strong coffee to get through today. He then got up out of his sleeping bag, stretching out in his pajamas, which consisted of a pair of green-plaid flannel pants and a t-shirt. He heard Throttle yawning as well. He turned around and saw him starting to wake up as well.

"What do you guys eat?" He asked. "Can you eat human food?"

"Yeah. To be honest, it's not that different than what we ate on Mars." Throttle responded, stretching out as best he could, taking care not to strain his stitched-up areas.

"Wait... You're from Mars?" Manuel raised an eyebrow, walking into the nearby kitchen.

"Yeah, I'm from Mars, and yes, it had life on it, and still does." Throttle answered. "Though most of us were wiped out from the Plutarkian occupation."

"So... you were invaded?" Manuel asked as he got some eggs out of the fridge and set them on the counter as he got out a frying pan and a bowl.

"Yeah." Throttle said, anger flashing in his eyes as Manuel started up a coffee maker. "The Plutarkians had used up all their natural resources on their planet, so they go around strip-mining the cosmos. They manipulated our government into buying up land on our planet and shipped it back to theirs."

"Yikes! Well, that certainly explains why NASA's little rovers haven't found anything there..." Manuel said, cracking open the eggs. "So, what brought you here?"

Throttle then explained all his adventures with Modo and Vinnie when they were in Chicago with Charley Davidson. He explained after their latest adventure, where they thought their adversary, a Plutarkian named Lawrence Limburger, had perished from a malfunction with something called a "Tug Transformer," that they were getting ready to head back to Mars, but were shot down by something, explaining every haunting detail of the ship breaking up in the atmosphere. He didn't even know who shot the ship down.

Manuel couldn't help but be intrigued as he listened to Throttle's escapades. Granted, he was uneasy, too, considering Throttle was not at all from this planet. But in the end, he felt sorry for Throttle. He wanted to help him out more but didn't know where to start. In the end, he let the feelings of dread slide off his shoulders for now and scrambled up the eggs in the pan. Once they had cooked, Manuel split the eggs between two plates. He walked back into the room and gave one to Throttle with a fork.

"So, why don't you tell me a bit about yourself?" Throttle asked, taking a bite. "Might as well know some about the guy who saved my life."

Manuel looked surprised. "Me? I'm afraid there's not much to tell. I was emancipated when I was fifteen. That was eight years ago. My mom wouldn't take care of me; I had to learn to take care of myself. And dad was always away. They also fought a lot. The courts declared my parents unfit to raise me and gave me my rights as an adult. Since then, I've lived here. A mechanic took me under his wing, and after I got out of school, I've been fixing up cars and motorcycles. The shop, ironically enough, is called _Throttle works_. Dad's also trying to settle down here, starting a delivery business between here and Bogus Basin, which he hired me for, along with several other people."

Throttle then remembered! His motorcycle! Did it survive the crash? Or was it now nothing but chunks of twisted scrap metal buried under the ship's wreckage?

Manuel noticed the worried look In Throttle's eyes behind his specs. "Is something wrong?"

"...We can talk about it later. You said you had to go to work?" Throttle asked.

"Yeah, I need to be ready and gone by seven," Manuel said, picking up a watch from the nightstand and putting it on. He went into the other room and came back with a pair of crutches. "Here, these will help you get around the apartment if you're feeling strong enough to walk. It was the best I could get, I couldn't find a wheelchair." Manuel set the crutches by the bed.

"Thanks." Throttle said with a smile. "I shouldn't have that big of a problem. I've been through worse."

"Just be careful, and please don't leave the apartment. My neighbors might freak out if they saw you wandering around outside, and whoever shot you down is no doubt still out there." Manuel then finished his share of eggs, grabbed some clothes out of a dresser drawer, and walked through the kitchen into the bathroom to start his morning routine.

_Meanwhile, on Interstate 65..._

Vinnie was on the road with Charley. He was the only one who had the luck of crash-landing near Chicago. Charley saw the whole thing, though she was just as puzzled as to who could have shot them down since Limburger was out of commission. Vinnie wasn't that badly hurt, thank god, and now they were out searching for Modo and Throttle. They found Modo's tracking signal was somewhere in Florida. Throttle was nowhere near that area, though. He was in Idaho, in the Boise area, near a place called Bogus Basin.

They were going to go find Modo first. He was closer, so they figured it would be quicker to find him.

"I hope they're both okay," Vinnie whispered as he rode in the truck, his bike in the back. He wasn't his usual, cocky, overconfident happy self. No words needed to be said on if he was alright, the expression on his face said it all. He was down and scared. He always had Throttle and Modo around. What if something happened to one of them? Or worse, what if they were dead? Charley had no doubt that was going through Vinnie's mind.

"It's going to be okay, Vinnie," Charley said, knowing all too well that Vinnie was still recovering from the shock of the crash. He was the youngest of the three, after all.

"It's just hard not to think about it, sweetheart..." Vinnie said, his eyes tearing up as he looked out the window of the truck as the sun rose up over the horizon.


	3. Advice

Manuel got to work on time, parking behind the tuning and repair shop where he worked: The _Throttle works Speed Shop_. He got out, and checked himself in on the work clock, then went to see what needed to be done. He went through the day as usual; replacing alternators, spark plugs, rotating tires, fluid changes, and various other things that needed to be done on their client's cars and motorcycles. He was focused on his work, but during his breaks, his mind always wandered back to Throttle and his predicament. He needed to help him find his bros, but how? He was unsure of how much time off he had earned, or even if he could take the time off to find Throttle's bros. Nor did he even know where to start looking.

Time went by quickly as business went at the regular pace for the garage. Soon, it was five o'clock. Manuel finished what he was working on and punched out. His shift was done. He got out a small snack bar from his lunchbox and started to munch on it, staring off at the sky from the garage door.

"Something bothering' you, sonny?" Manuel looked over his shoulder to see his boss, Robert Dodger. Everyone at the garage just referred to him as "Robby D" or just "boss."

Manuel wanted to tell him about his predicament but knew he needed to be careful with his wording. Otherwise, Robby D would think he had lost it. After all, nobody believed in aliens, let alone alien mice from Mars.

"Boss, I... kind of made a new friend the other night..." Manuel said as he put his punch card back into the rack, thinking of how to explain without sounding crazy.

"A new friend, huh?" Robby D sat down next to Manuel at the table, smiling. "What's his name? What's he like?"

"He goes by 'Thorneboy' and travels a lot," Manuel said. "He didn't ask me for anything, but I know he needs some help finding what he's looking for."

"What's he looking for?" Robby D asked.

Manuel's thoughts raced to come up with an answer. "...Family."

"Ah!" Robby D smiled, nodding and patting Manuel on the back. "What else do you know about this new friend? This Thorneboy? Does he do drugs? Did you check his background?"

"He's clean," Manuel said. He knew Robby D would ask that. The guy was like his second father, in a sense. He was protective of all his staff members and watched over them with an eagle eye. He was also a good guy to talk to when you needed advice. Robby D has been through it all himself, seeing he was now about sixty-five years old, and still kicking'. As the locals said, if Robby D didn't have the advice you needed, no one did.

"So, you want to help this guy out, yet you don't know where to start?" Robby D assumed.

"Dead on, boss." Manuel sighed. "He knows his family's out there, he just doesn't know where."

Robby D paused, as if in thought, looking up at the sky. "Well... What about the internet? There's a lot of stuff you can look up on the computer these days. It might be the best way to figure out your friend's past too."

That's when it hit Manuel! The internet! That was it!

"Boss, you are a genius!" Manuel smiled.

"Now that's the kind of face I like to see!" Robby D laughed with a grin. "By the way, if you want to take some time off, you've earned a good two months of vacation time. Why don't you use it to help your new friend? I'll get someone to cover your father's deliveries, too."

Manuel was surprised! This turned out better than he expected! Now he could help Throttle!

"Thanks, Boss!" With that, he got his lunchbox and keys to his CR-X.

_Later..._

Manuel flew up the steps to his apartment, anxious to tell Throttle the news. He unlocked his apartment door and walked in. Throttle looked like he had been pacing around on his crutches. He was currently sitting in the recliner.

"Are you doing okay?" Manuel asked.

Throttle sighed. "I'm just worried about my bros. I also left something where I crashed, if it's still there..."

"What did you leave?" Manuel asked.

"My bike." Throttle answered. "I need to get it back, but I can't go very far with these crutches. I don't even remember where I crashed up at Bogus..."

"That I can help with." Manuel went to his computer and switched it on. It went through the usual boot up screen. He logged in. "I believe I can track where you crashed using maps from the internet, and using them, along with data from local weather patterns, can track where your bros crashed as well! The maps are updated daily via satellite, all we need to look for is the patterns. I can get some help from my Internet pen pal, Takumi, as well. Let' s see what we can find..."


	4. Takumi

_Meanwhile, in Gunma, Japan..._

Takumi Fujiwara packed his bags into the rental car he and his father, Bunta were going to use to get to the airport. Dad had decided to expand his tofu business in an extreme way. He was going to open several Fujiwara Tofu stores overseas. They already had the Eight-Six shipped over there several weeks prior, and it was in storage. They would need it so they could show their overseas expansions how to paint their cars, so Takumi had to do all his most recent deliveries in the WRX. Oddly, and surprisingly, Iketani and Itsuki had earned enough vacation time and side money to go with him! They were in a separate rental car, patiently, yet anxiously waiting for Takumi and Bunta to finish. Even Mika was going since she got permission from her father.

"This is going to be quite the trip, Dad!" Takumi said as he put his suitcase in the trunk.

"Yeah." Bunta simply replied. Mika then walked up to Takumi, since she was riding in their car, too.

"I wonder what Boise will be like..." Mika took Takumi's hand as they got in. "Speaking of which, heard anything from your pen pal?" She smiled.

"Oh, you mean Manuel?" Takumi asked as they started to drive. "He wrote an email a couple of nights ago, saying he's trying to get used to his CR-X's new custom engine, along with that transmission kit he put in."

"You mean that B16A engine he modified and installed with the Turbo?" Bunta asked.

"Yeah. He said he just took it up to Bogus Basin and back, to see how it affected the car."

"You sure this guy doesn't have a death wish, Takumi?" Bunta asked, raising an eyebrow. "I've heard some bad things about this 'Bogus Basin'. Specifically, that some places on it don't have guard rails..."

"Not that I know-" Takumi was interrupted by his cell phone. He and Manuel had decided to get pre-paid cell phones to talk to each other and to help Takumi practice his English when he wasn't using voice chat on a computer. "Sorry, dad. Can I take this call?"

"Go ahead, but put it on speaker," Bunta said as he drove through the city. "I'd like to have a few words with him too if you don't mind."

"Not at all," Takumi said and answered his cell on speaker. "Hello?"

"Hey, Takumi!" Manuel said through the speaker.

"Hey, Manuel!" Takumi said, using his best English with a smile. "How are things?"

"Things right now are... interesting, I'll give you that much," Manuel answered. "You wouldn't happen to be near a computer right now, would you? I need some help looking up some unusual weather patterns..."

"Oh, sorry I'm not," Takumi answered. "We're on our way to the airport. We're heading for America tonight on that nonstop flight..."

"Oh, no! I completely forgot!" Manuel shouted, panicking over the phone. "Your nonstop flight to Boise! I totally spaced it! Oh, Crap! What am I going to do?! I need to be waiting at the airport, and I haven't even changed from my work clothes!"

"Slow down there, Manuel," Bunta said firmly in fluent English. "You still have about twelve hours. Take a moment and breathe,"

Mika chuckled as Manuel took a deep breath over the phone. He was kind of funny like that. Takumi had introduced her to him over voice chat, along with Itsuki and Iketani.

"Okay..." Manuel said. "So, your flight arrives in the morning, then?"

"Yep," Takumi said. "By the way, dad wanted to talk to you about something as well."

Bunta then cleared his throat. "Manuel, I hear from Takumi you are a mechanic?"

"Yeah," Manuel said. "Most of what I do is repairs, but I do know how to customize as well. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to build my CR-X. It's my pride and joy..."

"Yeah. He told me you 'tested' your car at Bogus Basin." Bunta said.

Manuel was silent for a moment. "He... Told you about that?"

"Afraid so. Figuring how you describe your skills at tuning and driving, and if you live up to what you told Takumi, I might be able to hire you for my tofu business."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Fujiwara, I'm afraid I'll have to turn you down on that offer," Manuel said in a sad tone. "I already deliver cooking supplies to my dad at Bogus. That and my mechanic job. I'm just not sure I could juggle a third job. I hope you understand."

"It's alright, don't worry about it. I'll give you my long-distance number, though, should you change your mind." Bunta replied as they drove into the airport parking lot.

"Thank you, Mr. Fujiwara, that's kind of you," Manuel said.

"Well, we're at the airport," Takumi said. "I'll have to let you go for now since they don't allow cell phones on the plane. See you in about twelve hours, Manuel."

"Gotcha, Takumi. See you in twelve hours."

"Okay, Later man." Takumi then hung up.

#

Manuel felt like slapping himself in the face. How could he have forgotten about Takumi's flight?

"Well, so much for that idea. I feel like such a moron right now..." He said. "Guess we will have to figure out those patterns on our own." He brought up a recently updated satellite image, then zoomed it in on Bogus Basin, scouring over it for anything unusual. About thirty minutes into pouring over the map, zooming in and out, he then saw not far into one of the wooded areas, there were scorch marks on the ground. He zoomed in more and saw what appeared to be a crash site! The wreckage certainly wasn't of any plane!

"That's it." Throttle said, pointing at the wreckage. "That's where I crashed. Think we can get there and back in less than twelve hours?"

Manuel sighed. "Maybe. You think you'll be able to ride your motorcycle down the pass, though?"

"I shouldn't have that much trouble, even with my eh, current handicaps." Throttle said, confidence in his voice, getting up with the aid of only one crutch.

Manuel got up from the desk, smiling, and went to get his car keys.

"Let's get going, then! Time waits for no one, after all, and the night will only last for so long..."


	5. Drifter

_Near Bogus Basin road..._

As they approached Bogus Basin road from Hill road, Manuel took it easy with the CR-X. Throttle rode in the passenger seat, trying to relax. He sighed, his mind going back to Modo and Vinnie. He kept thinking about them, wondering if they were alright.

"I know you're worried about them, Throttle," Manuel said. "But worrying won't do any good. We will find them, even though it may take a while. But you shouldn't obsess over it. It only makes you feel miserable."

Throttle scoffed. "Well, I guess you've got something that can take my mind off it."

Manuel smiled as they got to the stop sign that marked the beginning of Bogus Basin Road. "As a matter of fact, I do. I've been dying to do a comparison of the time it took me to get up the hill and back since I installed the new engine and turbo." He got a stopwatch out, handing it to Throttle. "Time me."

Throttle was confused for a moment. Then Manuel pushed the gas pedal down suddenly. The car lurched, and Throttle was thrown back against the seat from the sudden acceleration. Throttle couldn't believe a car this small could accelerate this fast! Manuel took the car through a few curves, blasting through them at blistering speed.

"Are we having fun, yet?" Manuel laughed. "By the way, this is no ordinary CR-X! I customized it! A lot of people wonder why there's that big lump where the back seat should be. Well, this CR-X has a mid-engine configuration with a different drive train than the standard. This is Mid-engine, Rear-Wheel drive five-speed action which means..." Manuel took the car through another corner, this time sliding the back around the outside! "...That I can _drift!_ "

Throttle was holding onto the sides of his seat, the only thing he could think of grabbing. This was nothing like when he rode on his motorcycle at high speeds! They started to approach a hairpin, Throttle's heart pounding. Manuel took the car into another drift, coming inches from a guardrail! Throttle could swear, he could have just reached out the window and ran his fingers across it as they went by! He held onto his seat for dear life, as Manuel took the car through several more hairpins and curves, burning rubber all the way!

Throttle then noticed how fast they were shooting through the road! The CR-X was approaching one-hundred miles an hour! Throttle's heart raced even faster! But he never told Manuel once to slow down! No way in hell was he going to go chicken! He had survived prison camps and countless battles upon battles! No way in hell was he going to let a mountain road and a twenty-three-year-old with an attitude and a hunger for speed scare him!

"Bet you can't do this any faster..." Throttle challenged.

"I bet I can!" Manuel said with a smile, stepping the pedal to the floor on a straightaway, flying through the gears as they went over the one-hundred mark on the speedometer. Throttle had never experienced such a rush of this kind in his entire life! Flying through the curves, constantly avoiding a collision with the wall or rail, if there was any! Staying away from the edge but challenging the road at the same time! Throttle thought this was unbelievable for a car! Manuel was obviously very skilled!

Finally, after a while of playing drift chicken on the road, Manuel slowed down at a hillside. He pulled over and turned on his hazards.

"Well, here we are. This is where I found you." He parked the car. "Let's see if we can find your motorcycle."

_An hour later..._

Throttle scoured over the hillside with his binoculars while Manuel looked around the trees with his flashlight.

"That shipwreck is around here somewhere," Manuel said, shining the light around. "This is the road where I found you, after all."

The light shined on some burnt sagebrush. There were scraps of metal scattered about too.

"Throttle! I think I found something. It's a trail of debris... Looks like we'll have to leave the road to see where it goes."

Throttle walked over next to Manuel. "Yep. That's part of my ship, all right. See the marks on the ground? That's where the section I was in slid down the hill on impact."

Throttle started to walk down the hill on his crutch, taking the flashlight. "I'll be back. Wait here."

Manuel watched as Throttle walked out of sight. He was scared, and not of the dark. Ever since meeting Throttle, the fear of the unknown had started to sink in. He started to even wonder how he had slept the night prior. Was Throttle telling the truth? Was he a scout, or something? Would aliens, mice or otherwise, start raining down from the skies to invade and take over? And what would happen when Throttle finally recovered? What would he do then? Hell, what if the government were the ones after him?

Manuel shook his head, trying to let the paranoia slide off his shoulders. He then heard a motor crank, then start.

The next thing he knew, he saw Throttle fly over the hillside and onto the road, on a big, cool-looking motorcycle! It's black paint and chrome parts shining in the moonlight! It practically screamed badassdom! It stopped inches from Manuel!

"Found it!" Throttle said, revving the engine slightly to make the bike purr. "Now let's see who can get back to the apartment the fastest!"

"I consider that a challenge," Manuel said with a smirk.

"That it is, kid."

"In that case, let's get it on!" Manuel then ran back to his car, started it up, and they both took off down Bogus as fast as the road could possibly allow!


	6. East Meets West

_Later, during the next day..._

Takumi walked off the plane and into the airport with his father and company. When he saw Boise and its surroundings from the plane, he was intrigued. This was nothing like Gunma. The valley itself was part of a high desert plain, and a river ran straight through the city. Nevertheless, it was a long, boring flight.

Itsuki yawned, walking next to Takumi, Mika, and Iketani. "What a flight." He said.

"You said it." A voice said behind them. Takumi turned around, and saw Keisuke Takahashi, with his older brother, Ryosuke.

"Keisuke! Ryosuke!" He exclaimed. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Well, after everything that you told us about this pen pal of yours, we wanted to see it for ourselves," Ryosuke replied.

"We also had our cars shipped here, just so we don't get bored." Keisuke laughed. "There's got to be some good racing around here somewhere."

"Well, it's good to see you both," Takumi said. "Speaking of Manuel, he said he'd be waiting for us here."

"Yep, and I think we've found him." Iketani then pointed out someone holding a sign written in both English and Japanese, reading "Fujiwara." It was Manuel. He was not paying attention when Takumi walked up. He was looking at his phone.

Takumi walked up. "Manuel Vernandez?" He said.

Manuel snapped to. "Takumi!" He put away his phone and slapped him a high-five. "How was your flight?"

"Not too bad.' Takumi said. "Itsuki slept most of the way." He then introduced Manuel to everyone else, including the Takahashi brothers.

Manuel raised an eyebrow at the Takahashi brothers. "So, you are the leaders of the Red Suns? Takumi's told me a lot about you."

"I'm sure he has," Ryosuke said as they walked out to the airport parking lot.

"Well, enough about that. Do you guys need a cab? I doubt we can all ride in my CR-X."

"It's covered," Bunta said. Manuel then saw something he didn't expect as they stopped walking: Takumi's Trueno Eight-Six was parked in one of the spots! And not far off was the Takahashi's Mazdas!

"Had to have it delivered," Bunta explained. "As I'm sure the Takahashi brothers had theirs delivered."

"So, I guess you guys won't need a cab," Manuel said. "Well, I'd better get my car."

Bunta then got a look in his eye. "Takumi, why don't you ride with Manuel? Tell me how he drives."

Takumi looked a little surprised. "Uh... okay dad." He walked with Manuel over to the other side of the parking lot. Manuel and Takumi walked up to his Blue and Black CR-X. Manuel popped open the front hood, and Takumi was surprised! There was no engine in the front!

"Where's the engine?" Takumi asked.

"In the back," Manuel said, folding up the paper sign and putting it into the cargo net in the space.

"Wait, you're telling me this is a mid-engine CR-X?" Takumi asked, surprised. "I've never heard of such a thing..."

"Well, it is custom built," Manuel said. He popped open the back boot, then opened a panel where the engine was located, looking over the B16A Turbo engine he had built, and smiled.

"This must have taken a lot of work!" Takumi said.

"It did, but it was so worth it to wipe the smug look off of the LA. Street King's faces," Manuel said.

"The Street Kings?" Takumi asked.

"A racing group that I met once at Bogus. Very obnoxious." Manuel explained, shutting the panel and boot. "Not sure what they are doing these days."

"Sounds a lot like the Emperor team," Takumi said as they got in. "Any other teams worth mentioning?"

"Well, there are the local Bogus Broncos. Named after the local football team. That team race regularly. Its ran by my friend, Bob Samson."

"I see," Takumi said, buckling his seat belt.

As Manuel started the car, he asked Takumi a surprising question. "...Takumi, do you believe in aliens?"

"Aliens? Well, I've... Never really thought about it." Takumi answered.

Manuel then put the car in gear and drove off with the Eight-Six close behind.

He was wondering how he would explain Throttle to Takumi.


	7. Skylark

Modo got to the edge of the swamp he had been lost in for the past couple of days, dragging his bike and himself up to the edge of a dirt road. He was so tired. Completely exhausted. He had lost track of how long he had been in that bayou, but he was finally out. He remembered crashing down, his part of the ship starting to sink. He had barely gotten out in time before it was enveloped in the muck. Then, his motorcycle wouldn't start. But he wouldn't abandon it. It was all he had left now.

Modo collapsed on the side of the dirt road. He hadn't had anything to eat or drink in days and had been bitten by too many things to keep count of. Was this it? He thought as consciousness started to leave him. Was he going to die here?

#

Jaiden Skylark was out camping. This was one of the few times he was able to go that he was able to enjoy himself. Now it was back to the city. As he drove his pickup through the nature park he had to go through, he wondered about some things. Like that big flare of light, he saw the other night, after the meteor shower...

He then saw a body on the road. It clearly wasn't human. Jaiden stopped immediately. He saw it was a human-sized, anthropomorphic mouse, in biker clothes! With a robotic arm! And Antennas! And it was in bad shape!

Jaiden got out. He wondered for a bit, questions racing through his mind. Was this some sort of a joke?

The mouse let out a groan of pain. That's when Jaiden saw it. It had a poorly dressed wound on its arm. This was no joke! Jaiden got a med kit out of his truck, along with a bottle of water, and cautiously approached.

"Um... Hello?" He said. The mouse opened the only eye visible on its head. The other was covered by a patch.

"Who's... there?" The mouse asked, trying to stand. But it was too weak to even sit up, collapsing again.

Jaiden was scared. The mouse looked easily twice his size. What was this thing? Should he call the cops? He wondered. Then he ruled out that question, knowing what would happen if he did: they'd think he was a nut. He finally mustered up the courage to walk forward and knelt at the mouse's side. He couldn't tell how badly the mouse was hurt, but he must have been out around here for at least several days.

"Relax. I won't hurt you." Jaiden said. He opened the water bottle, propped the mouse's head up, and let the mouse drink, as it downed the entire bottle of water. He then got out some bandages and antiseptic out of the med kit and began treating the arm wound. The mouse let out a hiss, no doubt feeling the sting of the antiseptic as it's face twisted into a look of pain but remained still. Jaiden then re-dressed the bandage.

"...Who are you?" The mouse asked, still weak, looking at Jaiden.

"First, my name is Jaiden Skylark." He said. "Second, I'm the one who should be asking that question, among many other things..."

"My name's Modo..." Modo answered, still feeling weak. "You haven't seen anyone else around like me, have you?" Modo asked.

"No, I haven- Wait a minute! You mean there's more of you?!" Jaiden asked now uneasy.

"Just me and my two bros..." Modo answered. "We were here to help. I'll explain later when we're on the road if you don't mind..."

Jaiden nodded. He knew that Modo would need some time to recover. He helped Modo into his pickup and loaded the Motorcycle he was lying next to in the back, tying it down with some cargo belts he had. Then he got in, and they were off.

_Meanwhile in Boise..._

"Manuel, you sure you are okay?" Takumi said as they walked out of a restaurant, Pizza by the Slice.

"Yeah, Manuel. You seem stressed over something." Iketani noted.

"No kidding!" Itsuki added with clear irritation. "Besides that, you've asked us some rather strange questions since we got here, usually about outer space. And you won't tell us why..."

Manuel then sighed. "It's complicated..."

This raised some eyebrows. "Manuel, you're not doing anything bad, are you? Like Drugs or Alcohol?" Iketani asked.

Manuel gave Iketani an irritated look. "It's nothing like that!" He snapped with a facepalm.

"Then what is it?" Takumi asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Look, you can tell us, you don't have to be afraid of us judging you. We all agreed on that when we met, right?"

Manuel sighed. He guessed he'd better just fess up now. "Guys, I need to introduce you to someone I've met. But you must swear _not_ to tell _anyone_ about it. Get in the car and follow me."


	8. Meet the Alien

_Florida_

_Sometime later..._

Charley and Vinnie had just arrived at the National Park where Modo's signal was coming from. It was moving! Right towards them!

"Could they make this road any bumpier?" Charley asked as she drove.

That's when they saw a pickup truck slowly driving down the road with Modo's bike in the back!

"Modo!" Vinnie exclaimed. On instinct, he jumped out of Charley's truck and ran up in front of the pickup as it slammed on its brakes, stopping inches from hitting him. Vinnie saw Modo in the passenger seat. His heart raced as he ran over to the passenger side of the cab and opened the door.

"One of your bros, I assume?" The driver, who was clearly irritated, asked Modo. He then turned to Vinnie. "I nearly hit you, what were you thinking?! You could have ended up roadkill, dumb-ass!"

But Vinnie was too worried about Modo to listen or even consider the insult. He instantly threw his arms around Modo in a tight embrace, failing to hold in tears of relief.

Even though Modo was completely drained, he was surprised by Vinnie's behavior. Normally, he was headstrong and confident. The crash must have sent him into a deep shock, maybe even into a depressive state.

"It's okay, Vin. Easy on the waterworks, It's Good to see you too." Modo said, patting Vinnie on the back. Charley then walked up from her truck to the driver's side of the pickup Modo was in.

"You helped Modo?" She asked the driver.

"He needed help. I was just trying to do the right thing." The young eighteen-year-old said as he got out of the pickup. He had blonde hair, and fair skin, wearing some light camping attire. "I guess you are friends with this guy?"

"Yeah, we are." Charley sighed. "What's your name, kid?"

"Hey, The name's Jaiden Skylark, and I'm no kid!" Jaiden snapped, even more irritated. "I'm eighteen years old! Geez! How old do I look to you, lady? Eight?!"

"No, but you sure can act like it." Charley quipped back with some wit. Jaiden just rolled his eyes in response and laughed.

"I'm not surprised by that one. I've heard worse." He said. "Maybe you should start from the beginning, Ms..."

"Charlene Davidson," Charley said. "But you can call me Charley."

_Meanwhile, in Boise..._

Manuel parked his car outside his apartment complex, Takumi parking the Eight-Six in the spot next to him. They walked up to the steps to his apartment.

"Now swear you won't freak out..." Manuel said, pausing outside his door.

"Why would we freak out?" Iketani asked. "Manuel, what is the big deal?"

"Just put your right hand up and say, 'I swear on our friendship, and as God as my witness, I won't tell anyone about this' okay?" Manuel said, annoyance in his voice.

Takumi, Itsuki, and Iketani looked at each other. They finally shrugged and held their right hands up and repeated the phrase: "I swear on our friendship, and as God as my witness, I won't tell anyone about this."

Manuel felt less than reassured. He got out his key and unlocked his apartment door. They walked in.

"Throttle?" Manuel said as they walked into the kitchen. "You still here? I called you earlier about wanting to introduce my pen pal and his friends?"

Throttle then limped into view on one of his crutches from around the corner. Iketani's breathing increased to a panicked level upon sight of Throttle, even more so when he saw he was the real deal and it was not a costume as he first assumed. Itsuki was starting to stammer on words in Japanese, pointing at Throttle. Even Takumi was wide-eyed, and he was usually the most mellow and understanding of the group.

"I forbid any of you to freak out!" Manuel snapped, looking at Takumi, Itsuki, and Iketani. "And Itsuki, you better not scream-"

But Itsuki let loose with a loud, blood-curdling scream before Manuel could finish. Throttle flattened his ears upon hearing the high-pitched wail. Even Manuel covered his ears.

Iketani immediately clamped his hand over Itsuki's mouth as Manuel slammed his apartment door shut, hoping in vain that no one had heard Itsuki. Manuel paused, catching his breath, and his nerve. Then he stormed over to Itsuki.

"Dammit, you want the whole building to hear you, Itsuki?!" Manuel snarled through barred teeth, his body rigid, eyes twitching in anger. If Itsuki feared Throttle, he was now downright terrified by the look in Manuel's eyes. There was a knock at the door a couple of seconds later.

"Vernandez! It's your neighbor, Roxanne! What _in god's name_ is going on in there?!" His neighbor, Roxanne Darcy demanded outside the door. Manuel's demeanor then changed to panic. Throttle limped behind the wall and out of view as Manuel answered the door.

"I'm... Sorry about the noise, Ms. Darcy! It's nothing major..." Manuel said with his best innocent voice, his mind racing to come up with an excuse as he nervously scratched the back of his head. "I just have some friends over... We were... Just playing the latest 'Aliens' game! Ridley Scott put some terrifying moments into it! That's why my friend screamed! He was playing it and got scared! It's nothing to worry about!"

"Well _keep it down in there, young man!_ " Ms. Darcy snapped in her heavy Brooklyn accent. "I could hear your friend _all the way down the stairwell_! It sounded like someone was getting murdered!" They then heard her stomp her foot and storm off as Manuel shut the door and leaned against it. He let out a big sigh of relief.

"Great PewDiePie impression, Itsuki," Iketani said sarcastically, letting Itsuki go. "Now, Manuel, you've got a lot to explain."


	9. Figuring Things Out

_A Couple of hours later..._

After Manuel had explained how they had met, along with Throttle's situation, things were a bit calmer, though still clearly tense. Even after introductions.

"So, after your confrontation with fish-man/alien...thing, you managed to fix your ship and were on your way back to Mars when you were shot down?" Iketani asked, referring to Limburger.

"Yep. That about covers it." Throttle said, sitting in the recliner.

"So where are your other two friends? Did they crash around here, too?" Itsuki asked, not as nervous as before as he drank some water.

"I don't think so. Otherwise, I would have found their debris on those satellite maps we looked over last night..." Manuel said.

"Okay," Takumi said. "But where could they have crashed?"

"That's what I tried to figure out since we looked," Manuel answered, looking over the maps on his computer again. "So far, I've narrowed the results of the two other crash sites to two areas in the United States: Illinois and Florida."

"I don't think the vacation time you have, nor your current budget will cover that kind of search radius," Iketani said sadly.

"Well, it's not like I'm going anywhere for a while, either." Throttle said, pointing at his braced leg. "When I rode my bike down Bogus, I think I jarred something. It hurts now when I stand on it without having to lean on the crutch..."

"Yeah. I think the vibrations from his motorcycle's engine might have slightly worsened a fracture he has on that leg..." Manuel said. "I had to help him up the stairs last night when we got back with his motorcycle."

"So where is his motorcycle?" Iketani asked.

"I put it under a tarp in my garage unit downstairs," Manuel said. "I don't use the garage much, except for storing and working on the CR-X. Besides, I'm afraid someone might steal it if we left it out in the open."

"Either that or whoever shot him down would be looking for it as well," Itsuki added.

"I wouldn't be surprised by that." Manuel sighed, then turned to Throttle. "Do you have any idea who could have done this to you, Throttle?"

"To be honest, I have no idea..." Throttle answered, shrugging his shoulders. "Last time I checked, all our enemies were K.O.'ed..."

"That is strange." Iketani scratched his chin. "Manuel, you don't think it's the government, do you? Do they know about Throttle and his two friends?"

Manuel shook his head. "I doubt it. Otherwise, they'd have a platoon of FBI agents kicking down my front door by now. Thankfully so far, that hasn't happened."

"Well, alright," Iketani said. "I just can't figure out who would do something like this... So, on other subjects, what about that race you said you were going to take us to tonight at Bogus?"

"Well, I'm not sure if I can go with Throttle here!" Manuel said. "We planned all that out before I found him. I'm sorry, Iketani but Things have changed, so I'm not sure if tonight is a good idea. He still is having trouble walking, and I'm not sure if the local crowd at Bogus would allow him to blend in that well..."

"Manuel, Chill. I can walk, and it's not like I'm going anywhere for a while. Don't let me be here affect your plans." Throttle said.

Iketani scratched his chin. "Manuel does have a point, maybe Throttle can't blend in with his current outfit, but if we can find something that could fit him, like a hooded jacket or something, that could help him blend in..."

Itsuki immediately spat out the water he was drinking. "Are you out of your gourd, Iketani?! How will a hooded jacket help him blend in with all the racers at Bogus?!"

"Hey, it works in the movies!" Iketani argued. "I don't see why it wouldn't work here! If we can just lay his ears flat and cover them, no one will notice or even know the better!"

"I have no problem with that, as long as I don't look completely ridiculous..." Throttle said.

Manuel scratched his head for a moment, then went to his closet and got out a black hoodie.

"Think this would do?" He asked.

Throttle looked at the hoodie for a moment. Then he nodded. It seemed it would be able to suit him enough for a disguise.

"Well, I guess that settles that. I just hope it works. Anyways, I can't wait to see you race down Bogus with my own eyes!" Itsuki laughed. "Takumi says you're really good!"

"First, I don't think I'm _that_ good. I've only been racing others for about a year. Mainly I drive that road myself to take things to dad and his diner," Manuel said flatly. "Second, I don't know what Akina is like, but here on Bogus, there aren't guardrails at every corner. You must find a strict balance when you drive on the road, regardless of it being up or downhill. So, you really need to watch your line and speed. "

"And Third, if we want to go, we'd best go now." Takumi finished, pointing at the clock. "You said the racing starts at Six, and it's already Five-thirty."

Manuel was still unsure if he should go or stay home. "You sure you're up for this, Throttle?"

"Yeah. I could use a change of pace for once." Throttle answered. "Besides, that hoodie will help, as Iketani said."

With that said, Manuel helped Throttle up, and they were out the door.

_Meanwhile, in Florida..._

Charley had tracked down Throttle's position. So far, it was still in the same area near Bogus Basin.

Vinnie and Modo were asleep in a Semi Truck Jaiden was driving. After they got back to Jaiden's home, they found out he was a truck driver. He offered to use his big rig to help Charley transport the bros and their bikes. They had put the bikes in a trailer the semi was towing. Jaiden had decided to tag along, saying he had to cover the distance to Idaho and back with his big rig anyway. He had a small shipment of parts to deliver. He was a trucker, but also a mechanic himself, though he specialized in the larger diesel engines, like the one on his semi. He was looking over the truck now, checking on some things, though it had plenty of fuel and had not shown any signs of trouble. They were at a rest stop, anyway, and so they were going to bunker down for the night.

Charley yawned, already in some pajamas. She was tired. She got up from the passenger side of the cab, turning off her laptop, and went into the bunks in the back to check on Modo and Vinnie.

Modo was asleep. He was out like a light on the upper bunk. Poor guy, Charley thought. He must be exhausted. She then turned to Vinnie.

Vinnie was not sleeping well. His head was tossing back and forth on the pillow, as he mumbled something in his sleep, gripping the blankets tightly. He's having a nightmare, Charley thought. She decided to wake him, gently shaking his shoulder. Charley could feel his fur damp with a cold sweat.

Vinnie woke with a gasp. He looked around, seeing Charley, and sat upright.

"Nightmare?" Charley asked, sitting down and taking Vinnie's hand in hers. It was shaking.

"I was alone... I saw Throttle and Modo... they were dying... bleeding out... Impaled and buried by debris from the ship... There was nothing I could do... Their corpses were talking to me..." Vinnie was starting to cry again. Charley pulled him into an embrace, comforting him as best she could. She wasn't surprised by the dream. Both had a similar one after Charley found Vinnie at the crash site near Chicago.

"It's okay, Vinnie." She cooed. "We've already found Modo, and we will find Throttle. We will get to the bottom of this, together. All four of us. Throttle is still out there, we just need to find him."

"But what if..." Vinnie started.

"Shh..." Charley placed a finger on Vinnie's mouth, gently hushing him, drawing him closer. "He's still out there. Just keep thinking that he's still out there. We will find him. Now, why don't you try to go to sleep? Don't worry, I'll be right here."

Vinnie did as he was asked, turning over and trying to settle down once more. Charley got in the bunk parallel to Vinnie, and pulled up the sheets, as they laid down. They had all been through a big shock, herself included, and it felt calming to be close to him. They eventually found a peaceful, nightmare-free slumber for the night, as consciousness faded away to dreams.

Jaiden Skylark closed the hood to the semi. Everything was in working order, and nothing was wrong with the engine. It looked like it would be good for the entire trip. He was a bit surprised when he got back in the cab to find everyone asleep. He smiled, then propped the driver's seat back, made sure the doors were locked in case any bandits got bright ideas and faded away into slumber.


	10. Broncos

_Bogus Basin Road..._

Throttle rode in the passenger seat of the CR-X, Manuel driving. He was going at a steady pace, just at the speed limit. They were on their way to the top of the downhill course that he raced on. People stood at the corners where there were guard rails to protect them, along with the sides of the road where they wouldn't get hit. Some had brought small stereos and were listening to music as they drove by. Some songs sounded like indie rock, others sounded like the Super Eurobeat genre.

Takumi was behind them in the Eight-Six. No doubt he is going to raise a few eyebrows, Manuel thought to himself. This was going to be something big, especially if Takumi wanted a crack at the course.

Throttle was lost in his own thoughts as they drove. He had tried to use his communicator after he had ridden his bike back to Manuel's apartment from the crash site last night, only to find it busted. The only thing that still worked on the communicator was the homing beacon. He'd have to track his bros down using that beacon when his leg healed up. Other than that, seeing the people on the sides of the road as they drove up the pass reminded him of when he went to events like this on Mars, before the Plutarkian invasion. It was bringing back a lot of good memories.

They arrived at the top of the course to find Bob Samson and the Bogus Broncos waiting for them, along with several other teams; The Purple Scorpions, and the Fifth-Street Drifters.

"Hmm... Scorpions and Fifth-Street. Didn't expect to see them up here tonight." Manuel said as they arrived at the top of the course. Manuel then parked his car at the side of the road.

Throttle double checked the hood over his head to make sure his ears were hidden, flat against his head, then he and Manuel stepped out of the car.

"Well, look who's here!" A man with red hair and freckles exclaimed. "Didn't think you were coming, Manuel."

"Nice to see you too, Bob," Manuel said with a smile. Bob then looked over and saw Takumi parking his car.

"Who's that?" He asked, pointing to Takumi.

"That's my pen pal, Takumi Fujiwara," Manuel said proudly. "I told you about him at the coffee shop, remember?"

Bob looked at Takumi, surprised. "No way! That's tofu boy? The kid who beat the Red Suns?!"

"The one and only," Iketani said, walking up with Takumi and Itsuki.

"I see you've spread the word about my arrival..." Takumi said. "Looks like I might have some challenges tonight."

"Well, I didn't think the reception would be this big..." Manuel scratched his head. "Besides, I don't see why it would matter..."

"Are you kidding?" A Fifth-Street racer shouted. "That guy's a legend in the making! He's all over the Gunma drift blog on the internet!

Takumi put on an innocent poker face as Manuel gave him a stare. "Why didn't you tell me you were such a racing icon?" Manuel asked, an eyebrow raised.

"I didn't think it would matter..." Takumi replied nervously.

Manuel laughed. "Ah, well. I'm just giving you a hard time anyway. Why don't you see if anyone wants to challenge or learn from you, Mr. drift prodigy? I'll be right here if you want some tips on the course..."

Manuel then noticed Throttle looking out at the skyline. A full moon was overhead, and Throttle didn't look amused. He looked like he was down. It was like he was reliving a painful memory.

"Don't worry. We got this." Iketani said, also noticing. "I'm sure we can keep these guys amused, at least until the Takahashi brothers show up."

Manuel nodded and walked over to where Throttle was standing, as he leaned on the CR-X.

"Something wrong?" He asked.

"This just brings back a lot of good memories..." Throttle said. "Before... You know..."

Manuel put his hand on Throttle's shoulder. "It's never easy, is it?"

"No." Throttle replied as they heard engines start up. "It never is..."


End file.
